A Hero to Me
by Cyberwraith9
Summary: Kim's fought nearly every kind of evil imaginable.  However, some evils don't wear costumes...they might even have an appealing face.  A minisequel to The Power of Love.
1. Pahtay!

=All-Purpose Disclaimer=  
  
Kim Possible is a registered trademark of Disney. No money was accepted during the writing or publication of this fic under any circumstances. Also, it's not my fault you suck.  
  
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Kim Possible  
  
A Hero to Me  
  
by Cyberwraith Nine  
  
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Saturdays on State U's Upperton grounds were usually peaceful days, especially in the fall. In the first weeks of October, the crisp autumn weather sent lollygaggers and slackers scrambling for warmer quarters, leaving the campus' large outdoor forums of browning grass and trees exploding with color relatively unpopulated. Only a few diligent students seeking aid from their professors and tutors ventured into the heart of the college. Even those that lived on-campus in the infamous dorms had found other, more accommodating facilities to inhabit. As such, the area was peaceful and quiet…  
  
Most of the time.  
  
A couple of young students in their late teens leapt out of the way as a dark blur roared down the sidewalk. One dove into the bushes, while the other tumbled out onto the pointy, itchy grass which immediately covered and clung to his coat. Neither got a good look at the pair mounted atop the black streak that had nearly run them down; they only knew that they were dressed in identical black leather, and that one of them was screaming hysterically.  
  
"Stairs-stairs-stairs!" the passenger on the black motorcycle screamed, pointing ahead unnecessarily. The driver ignored the loud, shrill protests and instead revved the rice-burner's motor. Growling in response, the bike leapt forward and into the air, sailing over the concrete steps before slamming back onto the sidewalk.  
  
Laughing hysterically, the driver pulled their ride over to the edge of the sidewalk. Doors and frightened pedestrians flashed past the pair too quickly to recognize. Leaning forward, the driver launched the bike off of a handicap entrance ramp and onto a row of planters next to the Chemistry Lab building, balancing their narrow tires on the concrete ledge. A strong force gripped at the driver's stomach as the bike's passenger began hyperventilating, but that only broadened the pilot's grin. "Hang on," the driver tossed back, "We're almost to the end!"  
  
"That's what I'm afraid of!" the passenger screamed back.  
  
Forcing both of their weights back, the driver yanked the handlebars upward just as they reached the end, getting even greater air on this jump than the last. It seemed like an eternity before they touched down again, nearly bouncing out of their seats. Hearing the passenger's tortured sobs, the driver decided to finally quit, and yanked the yoke to the side. The tires squealed against the pavement, leaving twin black trails as the bike skidded to a halt just inches before they would have slammed into a wall of solid brick.  
  
The driver pulled her helmet off, shaking free a mane of glorious ginger hair and blinking her luminous green eyes. The smile on her face threatened to split her beautiful features in twain as she planted the helmet on her hip, looping it under her arm as she turned back to her passenger. "That," she gasped excitedly, "Was an absolute blast!"  
  
Her passenger struggled with his helmet, staggering about as he fumbled with the latch beneath his chin. The offending protection finally came loose, allowing his tussled blond locks free. His chocolate brown eyes were frozen wide open, and his chest heaved up and down as the adrenaline forced every system in his body into overdrive.  
  
"I'm glad," he wheezed, clutching at his chest. If his heart were to beat any harder, it would probably have broken through his ribcage and popped out of his chest. "Because it's the last time you sit behind those handlebars. Ever." Rufus leaned out of his pocket, emptying his little rodent stomach onto the sidewalk. It was the first time Kim had ever seen a Naco in reverse, and she prayed it was the last as well.  
  
"Oh c'mon!" she whined, looking back at the sleek, black motorcycle with tender affection. It was Ron's souvenir from his summer in Japan, and she had been cajoling him for weeks to let her drive it. "It's not like I scratched it or anything!"  
  
"Ever."  
  
"You're just mad because I can drive it better than you." she smirked.  
  
His eyes grew steely, though they never quite lost that essential spark of good humor he seemed to always keep about him. "Ev. Er." He said again.  
  
"Aw, c'mon Ron," she smiled, "Let me at least drive us home."  
  
"No." He turned around, folding his arms defiantly. "Not a chance. No way. I am an immovable pillar of decisiveness on this and any other matter pertaining to your usage of my motorcycle. So nyah."  
  
"Please?"  
  
"Forget it."  
  
"Plllleeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaase?"  
  
Ron's eyebrow tweaked as he continued to examine his precious baby. "You're not…doing 'The Pout', are you?" He felt a shiver of fear, almost as if the sheer power of her expression was cascading into his soul without his even looking at her.  
  
"Pwease, Wonnie?"  
  
Deciding to risk it, Ron turned around. Sure enough, Kim's bottom lip was like an enormous balcony of beseeching, and her eyes twin pools of pure, shimmering plea. "Oh no…not the Puppy-Dog Pout." He backed away, trying to shield his eyes. But it was too late; he had already seen it. If he could just muster every ounce of self-control he had…  
  
Her hands clasped together, drawn down in front of her as she twisted to the side. "I'll be reeeeaally careful, Ron." she added, quivering her lower lip. Her hair fell over one eye, creating a picture that was caught between sultry, sexy, powerful and pathetic all at the same time.  
  
Ron's resolve cracked like an American-made engine block. "Oh, all right." he groused, crossing his arms crankily.  
  
"Ha!" Kim dropped the pout in a flash and put on a smug expression in its place. "You always did break like cheap glass, Ron." she teased, throwing an arm across his shoulder. He still seemed surly, until she started poking him in the ribs. "Cheer up. I'll try to keep her in two or three pieces."  
  
"Gosh Kim," Ron laughed, poking her back, "When'd you find time for a humor transplant? Kim?" His laughter died down at Kim's silence. He looked to her questioningly, but her gaze was fixed on a youthful, hunky blond approaching the dynamic duo.  
  
"Nice moves, Possible." the young lad grinned, burying his hands in his letter jacket. There were several sports' insignias sewn above the elbow on his coat, most notable of which was a tiny brown football with a gold star set in its center.   
  
He stopped just shy of the two, with wandering eyes that admired a good deal more than Ron's impressive vehicle. It was all Ron could do to keep himself from launching at the ogling, obtuse ogre. Kim, on the other hand, seemed to brighten with the mere presence of the vaunted jock.  
  
"Bret Bretterson…" she sighed softly, barely audible even at Ron's close proximity. Clearing her throat and straightening her posture, Kim quickly disentangled herself from her best friend, trying unsuccessfully to appear casual. "Hey! Uh, thanks…"  
  
"This your ride, Storable?" Bret leaned in, pretending to examine the bike as he got a better angle to stare at Kim's smooth, leathered posterior. Kim didn't even seem to notice, but others did.  
  
Ron's teeth gnashed painfully behind his smiling lips. "Stoppable." he corrected. "And yes."  
  
"Well, it sure seems like Kim knows how to ride." Bret flashed a grin at the redhead. Then his fingers snapped, and his large, chiseled features transformed with a sudden thought. "Say, I just remembered; Delta Kappa Phi is having a big get-together tonight. Maybe you could come?" he suggested to Kim.  
  
Kim blinked, taken aback at the sudden offer. Her hand fluttered to her breast as she stammered, trying to maintain her cool air. "I…I'd love to!" she exclaimed excitedly. Then she forced a calm over herself, and clearing her throat. "I mean, yeah, that'd be cool…if I have time, or something."  
  
"Great." Bret smiled. Then he glanced over at Ron, quirking an eyebrow. "Oh, you can come too, if you want."  
  
"Gee…" Ron sneered. "Thanks."  
  
"Well, I'd better get going, Kim. Hope to see you tonight!" With that, Bret gave her a wave and walked off, whistling a jaunty tune.  
  
Kim stood frozen on the spot for a few seconds, trying to sort out the rapid-fire manner in which her day had skyrocketed right to Cloud Nine. Bret Bretterson, captain of the State U Salamander's football team, major hottie extraordinaire, asking her to a party! A party at one of the coolest, most popular frat houses! "Ron, this is fantastic!" she exclaimed as soon as Bret was out of earshot.  
  
"Yeah, whoop-dee-doo." Ron sighed, slapping his helmet back on. He climbed back onto the bike, waiting patiently for Kim to seat herself behind him. She had forgotten all about driving back home, and instead was jabbering on and on about the party. Pity…it had started out such a promising Saturday, too.  
  
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"What do you think? This? Or this?"  
  
Ron put his Calculus book down with a disgruntled groan, pulling his head out of polynomial equations to look over at Kim's bedroom door. The redhead was standing at the threshold of her domicile, hoisting a pair of hangers. Her left hand held a small white tank-top with a pretty pink heart in the center, while her right carried a dark, black long-sleeved off-the-shoulder number.  
  
"And this is for what?" Ron asked, slamming his book closed and setting it aside.  
  
Kim rolled her eyes as if Ron was the single most stupid person on the planet. "For the party. Duh!"  
  
"Oh." He shrugged. "I didn't think you were going."  
  
She lifted the garments, hooking the hanger on the trim above her door before padding across the carpet to stand in front of the couch with hands on hips. "Ron, we're talking about a party at the Delta Kappa Phi house, which is only the biggest, coolest frat on the campus. We're talking about Bret Bretterson, one of the hottest guys in the whole school, showing a marked interest in 'me'." she lectured, placing a hand on her chest to emphasize the last point. "We're talking about a spankin' party with tons of music, guys 'and' girls," she reminded him, "And quite possibly the best night of our Freshmen lives! Why wouldn't we go?"  
  
"Because," he reminded her irritably, "Someone's failing Calc." He picked up his book, tapping derisively on the cover. "And 'someone else' promised to tutor him tonight so he would pass the next test on Monday, pass the class, and therefore be able to graduate on time without taking summer courses."  
  
It was Kim's turn to say it; "Oh." Her shoulders fell as she remembered her promise to Ron. He was absolutely right. "Jeez, I'm sorry." Her hand slapped over her face as she twisted around, falling next to him on the couch. "I totally spaced on that." Her lips quivered with a long breath as she sighed, never removing her hand from her eyes. Guilt began pouring over her without warning over the forgotten matter, intermixing with her disappointment. "You're right. Sorry."  
  
Ron stared at his friend, clutching his Calc book to his chest as he watched her wallow in the sudden reversal of plans. The truth was, he didn't want her going to that party for a whole host of other reasons, and seeing her so melancholy was working his own guilt over. "KP, I…"  
  
Kim sat up, putting on a neutral smile as she gently took his book from him. Her disappointment was thinly (and poorly) veiled, but she did her best nonetheless. "Okay," she puffed, "Let's get started. We should be able to get a chapter in before dinner, right?"  
  
His soulful brown eyes tweaked as she opened the book to the chapter on anti-derivatives, flipping through to the first section. Truthfully, he supposed, it was only a matter of time; living with Kim for the past month had been too awesome to last. Ron figured that sooner or later, another guy would come along and catch Kim's attention after the Will Du debacle. He just really enjoyed being the most important guy in Kim's life again. But if it meant making Kim miserable and trapped… "KP," he said softly.  
  
"So," she said with a forced smile, "Let's start with variables with no powers. See, when there's no coefficient-"  
  
"Kim…"  
  
"-all you have to do is add one to the current power, which is technically 'one' anyway-"  
  
"Kim!"  
  
"-and then take the new power, invert it, and place it as the new coefficient-"  
  
"KIMBERLY ANNE!" Ron huffed. Kim stopped short at his use of her full name, something that she couldn't ever recall. She stared at Ron, whose shoulders heaved with heavy breathing. After getting her attention, he calmed visibly, and shut the book in her lap. "Go to the party."  
  
"No, it's okay." she lied. "I made a promise to you."  
  
"Go to the party." he said again.  
  
"Ron, it's seriously no big." she waved him off. "Besides, if we get done with Calc in time, we could still catch our Saturday movie, like we always do."  
  
"Kim…" he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in annoyance, "Go. To. The. Party."  
  
Kim eyed him cautiously, hardly daring to hope. "Are you serious?"  
  
"No," he snorted, "I've only been repeating myself to practice my English skills." He took hold of her hand, looking her square in her beautiful eyes. "Look, you really want to go. It's not like the studying is ultra-crucial…at the moment," he allowed sardonically. "And I can already tell that your mind isn't going to be anywhere near math tonight. So just go to the party."  
  
"Yes!" Kim's grin became genuine. She crashed into Ron, crushing him in a hug and pecking him on the cheek. "Thank you thank you thank you!"  
  
Ron turned scarlet, patting her on the back. "You can thank me by helping me double-time tomorrow, KP." he assured her, masking his own disappointment far better than she did hers.  
  
"You'd better believe it," she assured him, rising from the couch in a flash before he could rescind the offer.  
  
Ron watched her dash off towards her room. He stopped her halfway, calling out, "And Kim?"  
  
"Yeah?" she asked, turning.  
  
"For the record," he said, "I think the black one looks better." As much as her excitement over the party hurt him, he couldn't help but marvel at her dazzling smile as she tugged the garments down from her doorway and locked herself away in preparation.  
  
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Kim emerged from the bathroom almost an hour later, fresh from her shower and glowing with excitement. Her hair was perfectly coifed in a simple variation of her usual style with just a touch of hairspray to give it bounce. As an added measure, she had braided a long, thin lock from her left temple, and tied it off with a tiny red bow that hung near her collarbone. She was dressed in the top Ron recommended, with a black mini riding low on her hips to complete the look. Kim was looking sexy, feminine, and ready to party.  
  
Manning a frying pan at the stove, Ron did a double-take as he looked upon his best friend. Even Rufus rubbed his little eyes to make sure Kim really was even more beautiful than usual. The hamburger frying in his pan popped and sizzled in the silence of the boys' admiration.  
  
"I take it this meets with approval." Kim remarked wryly, twirling to give them a view of the entire product. It wasn't often that she got the chance to dress up, and it was good to know she hadn't lost her touch.  
  
Ron blinked hard, knowing full well that the image was burned into his retinas, and would stay that way for a long time to come. "Only if you're trying to get every guy on the planet to fall for you, KP."  
  
Her smile widened. "Including you?" she teased.  
  
"Sorry," he retorted with equal amusement, "But best friends are immune to your dark charms, fee-male."  
  
Kim smiled, sauntering over to the counter. She had spent the better part of the month living with Ron, and the whole time she had tried to sort out her feelings for him. Thus far, a reasonable solution had eluded her. She knew she felt something for Ron, something more than the platonic love they had always shared. Part of her believed that Ron felt it too. But she didn't have the courage to act; if she was wrong, or even right, it could end up destroying everything they had together.  
  
All of this flashed through Kim's mind as she approached the kitchen, spying an oddity resting on the counter. Since her shower, a small vase of roses had found its way into the apartment, and was currently at rest next to the toaster. Plucking one of the long stems from its arrangement, she breathed deeply of its blossom. "What're these?" asked Kim.  
  
"It's a thank you from that tiny village you saved last week." He answered, turning back to his dinner preparations. "Just came while you were getting gussied up."  
  
Upon further inspection, Kim found a tiny card attached near the gift's base. She pulled it from beneath the vase and read aloud, "To Kim Possible and Friend. Awww…"  
  
Ron snorted. "At least they didn't try to remember my name," he said sarcastically. "I still remember the flowers those Guatemalans sent to 'Kim Possible and Roy Stockable'."  
  
Kim circumvented the counter, walking up behind her despondent roommate. "Aw, cheer up, Roy," she ribbed him gently. Her arms folded across his back as she laid her head upon his shoulder. "You were a big help with that flash-flood."  
  
"Oh yeah," he replied bitterly. "If I hadn't nearly drowned, you might have gotten bored just converting their town hall into an emergency shelter." His eyes rolled towards the ceiling.  
  
"It was really no big," she shrugged.  
  
"Says the girl who saved six hundred people from certain destruction not seven days ago."  
  
She pulled away, playfully batting him upside the head with her rose before slipping it into the buttonhole on his collar. "You only need to save one person to be a hero." she said. "And you've saved me plenty of times."  
  
Ron turned around with a passable attempt at a smile. "Thanks KP." he said. Then he pulled back to arm's length, examining her outfit. "Hmm… Needs something more. Rufus!"  
  
Rufus popped out of his pocket, yawning and stretching. The mole rat looked up questioningly at his mobile home. Clearly, he had been napping, and was loathe to leave the pocket for just anything.  
  
"Rose me!"  
  
Charged with his mission, Rufus saluted and squeaked, "Roger!" He scampered up Ron's leg, across his chest, along his arm and onto the counter in just seconds. When he reached the vase, Rufus reached in and retrieved a rose from the bouquet, which he promptly brought to Ron.  
  
Ron reclaimed his pal, complete with flower, and grasped at the green stalk carefully. His opposite hand adjusted its grip on Rufus, wielding him like a tool. "Now," he said, examining the bloom, "We clip off the excess…"  
  
As Ron brought the stalk to Rufus' face, the rodent obediently clipped a good portion off with his powerful teeth. Only a few inches of the stem remained below the bloom itself, just enough for what Ron had in mind.  
  
"Next…" His tongue poked out between his lips as Kim watched on in amusement, "We remove any remaining thorns." Once again, Rufus' power was used for the forces of decorative gardening, clipping away at the sharpened points until they were all gone. "And voila! The perfect accessory." He reached up and placed the shortened stem behind Kim's ear, letting the blossom rest opposite her braid.  
  
Kim reached up, fingering the flower delicately. "Thanks," she said softly, smiling. She looked to Rufus, who had scampered back over to the vase and was munching on another one of her roses. "How do I look, Rufus?"  
  
"Ho, pretty!" Rufus squeaked.  
  
Ron let his hand linger, brushing a stray bang back into place. When Kim caught him staring, he looked away abashedly, and pretended to regain a sudden interest in his burning hamburger. "So you're, ah, all set." he said to the wall. "Better get a move on, or you'll miss out on all the fun."  
  
A soft hand rested upon Ron's shoulder. He swallowed hard as Kim turned him around and took the pan from him. "Come to the party, Ron. You were invited too." she reminded him as she set the hamburger down on the stove.  
  
Part of Ron ached to take her up on it, but he shook his head. After years of social awkwardness, he had developed a sixth sense for detecting situations that would end in his humiliation. A frat party just seemed like it would end with his being left out on the front lawn, hanging upside-down from a tree in his underwear. "No, I can't."  
  
"C'mon." she gently insisted. "It's Saturday night. You should be having fun, like every other teenager in Upperton."  
  
"I can't, KP." he reiterated. His thumb chucked back to the couch, where his books waited patiently for his return. "If I don't pass the next Calc test, I'm seriously gonna graduate with your brothers in about six to eight years."  
  
Though she smiled at the exaggeration, Kim couldn't help but feel a little disappointed and guilty. What good was going to a kickin' party and flirting with one of the hottest guys on campus when your best friend was stuck at home reading math? And besides which, part of her had hoped to dance (and maybe flirt a little) with Ron as well…a large part, she discovered.  
  
"All right." She admitted defeat with a sigh. "Try not to have 'too' much fun without me."  
  
"Same goes for you," he smiled back with a grin that was just as fake. "Watch those frat guys, they aren't to be trusted."  
  
"Please," she waved his warning off. "'She can do anything,' remember? I think I can keep a few drunken frat boys from taking advantage of me."  
  
Ron swallowed his worry and disappointment, trying hard for Kim to make his smile genuine. "Just concerned for my best friend is all."   
  
Kim leaned in and planted a light kiss on Ron's cheek. As she pulled back, she noted with some amusement how surprised he seemed, and vowed to do it again some time. "Catch you later, Ron."  
  
Ron stood there, motionless, as Kim bounded out of the apartment. The door closed behind her. His hand rubbed on the slightly moist spot left on his cheek by her lips. "It's both cool and sad," he told his flower-munching friend, "That I just experienced the highlight of my weekend in a fraction of a second."  
  
"Ho, brother!" Rufus rolled his eyes, slurping on another rose petal.  
  
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The first thing Kim noticed was a thrumming baseline echoing all through the tightly-packed house. She felt rather than heard it as she walked through the doorway and into the madhouse. It vibrated uncomfortably in her skeleton as she sidestepped left, narrowly avoiding a pair of laughing, inebriated (and underaged!) couple as they spiraled out of control and into the door frame.  
  
Kim eyed the pair as she warily entered, then swept her gaze out at the rest of the room. The Deltas had packed the house full; people were everywhere, talking, dancing, laughing. And nearly everyone had a plastic cup filled with a watery amber liquid Kim's nose identified as cheap beer.  
  
"Possible!" a familiar voice called through the crowd. Kim's head turned, and she immediately began to feel relieved as she saw the host of this madness muscling his way through.  
  
"Hey Bret," She slid between a pair of provocative dancers and reached him in a few steps. "Uh…cool party." Bret was dressed in a reflective club shirt and jeans. She noticed with a little distaste that he, too, was holding a couple cups of alcohol.  
  
"Thanks." he grinned. Raising the cups in his hands, he asked, "Can I offer you a drink?"  
  
"Oh, no," she waved the cups down. "I, uh…I don't 'do' alcohol, thanks."  
  
"S'cool." he shrugged. Kim saw with some disappointment that a portion of the interest in his eyes faded at her declination of the drink. "Well, come on in, we're just getting warmed up around here."  
  
She spun in a slow, lazy circle, examining the room. The pictures on the walls seemed ready to fall courtesy of the pounding music. People kept bumping into her from all sides, sloshing drinks and hooting like morons. She spied one unlucky guy who looked to be about her age in the kitchen, pouring his drunken guts into the filthy sink before wiping his mouth on his sleeve and taking up another drink. Kim made a mental note to stay away from him.  
  
"Yeah," she said with feigned enthusiasm, "It looks…" Bret was gone, already talking to another of his guests. Kim looked around once more, and did not recognize a single face in the room. She felt more uncomfortable with each passing moment, and felt totally out of her element. If only a costumed freak was around!  
  
"…fun." she muttered.  
  
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Ron sat on the couch, flipping idly through channel after channel of useless, uninteresting programming. His Calc textbook was resting beside him on the futon with a pencil stabbed through the cover. The murdered book had been so ever since Ron determined that Calculus was a tool devised by Lucifer himself, and that Isaac Newton really hadn't had much to do with the process after all.  
  
"I will not let this Saturday night go to waste," he idly promised himself. Everyone else had something to do; Kim was at the party, and Rufus was catching up on his twenty hours of necessary sleep in a bowl on the kitchen counter. So why was he the only one lame enough to have nothing to do?  
  
"Coming up next on the Late, Late Show," his television spewed, "We've got stupid owner tricks, followed by-"  
  
Ron's thumb mashed down on the power button before he tossed the remote aside disgustedly. "Okay," he groaned, letting his head flop back onto the couch cushion. "That's it. This Saturday is officially wasted. Blown. Garbage."  
  
Naturally, no one responded.  
  
He blew out a breath of impatience, tapping his fingers against the wooden arm of the couch. Ron had never liked silence. It always seemed unnatural to him in some way. It made him feel uncomfortable. On a mission, he didn't just talk constantly to keep things light; he yammered to keep himself sane in an otherwise totally chaotic situation. But now, there was no one to talk to.  
  
Then it occurred to him that there was probably plenty of noise at the Delta party.  
  
'Hmmmm…' Ron debated internally, 'On the one hand, I could go, meet some new people, hang out for a while and try to salvage what's left of this weekend. On the other hand, I'd have to watch Kim flirt with Bret Brick-head-erson all night.'  
  
The silence echoed back, answering his dilemma for him.  
  
"Well, it's not like I haven't seen her chase after other guys before," he reassured himself aloud as he stood. "Quick change of clothes, and I'll be ready to pah-tay!" 'Just hope Kim doesn't mind me horning in on her action,' his brain added.  
  
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Kim was squashed between two couples on the Deltas' couch, listening in misery to the pairs suck each others faces off. 'Where's Ron when you need him?' she thought glumly. Then she did an about-face at the thought, her eyes quirking at the strange apparition entering her brain. 'Just for someone to talk to,' she clarified.  
  
"Hey!" a slurred voice sang from across the living room, barely audible above the pounding music. "Hey Red!" Kim's head snapped up. Her horror and disgust tripled as she saw a young, athletic senior in a Delta jacket stagger through the crowd, his buzzing eyes somehow focusing in on her. "Yeah, I see you there Red. C'mon, give us a dance, huh?" There was a half-empty beer in his hands. Most of the missing half, it seemed, was sloshed across the front of his shirt. Kim guessed (accurately) that it wasn't his first drink of the evening, either.  
  
She looked left and right, but there was no avenue of escape, and the drunken, disgusting dancer was drawing ever closer. Kim stood anyway, hoping to force an exit before he could reach her. Unfortunately, no one was budging.  
  
The strange boy was almost on top of her when another Delta jacket stepped between the two. Though he was facing away, Kim recognized the back of Bret's head. A well of gratitude washed over her as he caught his brother by the shoulder and eased him off. "Sorry, Ted," Bret consoled him loudly, "But Kim's already agreed to have a toast with me.  
  
Ted seemed to shake the disappointment off rather quickly, and staggered off in another direction as Bret turned back to Kim. The older boy smiled, cradling a pair of glasses in his free hand as he clapped her on the shoulder. "You okay? You don't look like you're enjoying yourself very much."  
  
"What? Oh, no!" she shook her head quickly. Brushing back a few stray strands of hair, she put on her most dazzling smile. "This is great…really!"  
  
"Well," he seemed to accept the answer, "I'm glad. Oh, and I was serious about that toast, if you were interested." He held up his large hand, nodding to the two glasses. Each contained a yellowish liquid that smelled rather sweet. When he caught her eyeing the drinks, he amended, "It's lemonade, I promise. I've been scrounging around for something for you to drink. Sorry it took so long."  
  
Kim's heart melted a little as she took the drink. Her smile became genuine as she thanked him. 'Maybe I was wrong…' Kim thought, watching Bret raise his glass.  
  
"Here's to new liaisons." He smiled and tossed his head back, downing the drink like a shot.  
  
Kim shrugged off the odd wording and mimicked her host. The warm, sugary liquid poured down her throat, leaving a pleasant tingle as it went. She smacked her lips, handing the glass back to Bret. His smile had doubled, and she couldn't help but smile back.  
  
Then his smile doubled again…because there were two of him in front of her. Then four. Then there were too many to count, and the whole room was spinning so fast that it wouldn't have mattered anyway. Kim staggered, trying to keep her footing, but it was no use. She felt a pair of strong hands grip her beneath her armpits, keeping her aloft, but she couldn't see whose hands they were.  
  
"I'm really glad you came, Kimmie." Bret's voice whispered from the swirling colors. "We're gonna have a great time tonight."  
  
Kim felt herself slipping away. Her head became a balloon, floating towards the ceiling even as the rest of her body turned to gelatin. She felt relaxed, and at the same time, it was as if a fire had been lit in her belly. Her mind screamed out for help, but there was no one, not even herself, who listened.  
  
'Someone,' her last conscious thought sobbed as she felt herself being guided somewhere new, 'Please help me!'  
  
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	2. Lucid Rationality Nowhere In Sight

=All-Purpose Disclaimer=  
  
The following contains content not suitable for youngsters and the elderly…or people in-between. Furthermore, those of other species, sentient or otherwise, are also not recommended for readership. In fact, just hit the back button on your browser, this stuff gets a little racy.  
  
Seriously. Parents, take a look at the following before allowing your child of under thirteen (as that is the posted rating) to view this. While it does not contain anything that *I* would deem worthy of the big 'R', it does contain descriptive and explicit content that pushes the boundary of its rating…sort of. Look, just read it and decide for yourselves.  
  
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Kim Possible  
  
A Hero to Me  
  
by Cyberwraith Nine  
  
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As he stood in the doorway of the Delta Kappa Phi house, an amorphous sense of uneasiness overtook Ron before he even got a chance to gain his bearings. His eyes scanned the interior of the slovenly kept frat house the instant the door had closed behind him. He allowed the instincts honed from hours upon hours of grueling, humiliating, torturous Yamanouchi training to take over, and before he could blink twice he had categorized and assessed each and every drunken, bouncing, giggling and staggering person in the expansive living room, despite their numbers.  
  
Ron had spent the better part of fourteen years as Kimberly Anne Possible's best friend. Of those, he had also been her sidekick since they were twelve. Anyone who observed Kim for more than five minutes, even casually, knew that spending time with her meant chasing after her. Kim was always on the move. As such, he knew the back of her head better than the back of her hand. And at that moment, Ron couldn't spot Kim's auburn locks dancing anywhere in the room.  
  
"KP?" he called out, hollering loudly just to hear himself over the pounding bass of what passed for music. A few people bumped into him, spilling drinks all over his red pullover, but he ignored them (though he did run his finger along the spill and taste it). "Kim?"  
  
"Hey!" One of the Delta brothers, a large, beefy man with doughy features and a slackened expression wobbled up to him with a cup of cheap beer in hand. He seemed to be examining more than one Ron in front of him as the younger boy stood there impatiently, trying to see around the brute's broad shoulders to scan more of the crowd for his best friend. The longer he went without seeing her, the greater his ill-ease became.  
  
"Hey yourself." Ron muttered back, standing on tiptoe to get a better view of the kitchen.  
  
"You…You're not supposed to be here." the Delta slurred, somehow managing to focus his looping eyes on Ron. "You look fike a lrosh."  
  
"Uh-huh. Listen, have you seen a…or in your case, three or four," Ron amended, patting the lush on his titanic shoulder, "Any number of cute redheads come into the party? 'Bout yea high," he held up his hand, "Impossibly pretty, could probably beat the crap out of you without breathing hard?"  
  
"Um…" The Delta put most of his brainpower, which wasn't really all that much to speak of when he was sober, into recollection. "I saw a redhead earlier…looked like a frosh, too."  
  
"Good, good…" Ron coaxed more information, leaning in close. "Where did she go?"  
  
"…uh?"  
  
"Focus, buddy, c'mon…" Ron rubbed his neck a little, stirring up the two or three brain cells still floating about the senior's cavernous skull. "Redhead. Pretty. Where?"  
  
"Oh, the redhead!" The Delta brother suddenly leered lecherously, tilting his head in the direction of the stairway. It was a poor decision, as the rest of him quickly followed, and only Ron's quick hand kept him from tumbling to the ground. "I think I saw Bret with a redhead…they were headed upstairs, 'r somethin'."  
  
"Upstairs?" Ron wasn't necessarily *experienced* with college parties, but he wasn't stupid, either (most of the time). "As in, 'up the stairs' upstairs?"  
  
"How else would you go upstairs?" the Delta scoffed at the Ron on his far left. "Stupid…"  
  
"Ye-ah. Just one last question." Ron rolled his eyes. "You got the time?"  
  
"Yeah, it's-" The Delta brother twisted his wrist, dumping his beer onto his pant leg in the process. "Oh, crap."  
  
"Thanks." With one last pat to the shoulder, Ron left his informant in the dust and wove through the crowd as quickly as he could. Upon reaching the cleared stairs, he hurtled upward and into the darkened upstairs.  
  
Ron stood a moment in the unfamiliar hallway, uncertain of what to do next. His eyes darted about wildly as he searched the narrow corridor. There were small portraits of previous members, as well as awards, plaques, and trophies set on small tables, which were in turn set between a number of doorways on either side. But there was no sign of life to be seen anywhere.  
  
Panic clamored at his throat and constricted his windpipe as he fought to keep control. "Calm down," he panted to himself. "Just stay calm. Okay. Now, if you were a heroic, independent young woman with more guts than sense, where would you be?"  
  
A soft, feminine tittering traversed the hallway from the last door on his left. That's when Ron noticed a sliver of light spilling out onto the floor from the very same doorway. He moved like lightning, and his foot crashed like thunder, blowing the door right off its hinges.  
  
The strange face straddling a pair of legs on the bed nearly toppled to the floor, and the pair in the corner working their flies open looked ready to have heart attacks as the door came crashing in with Ron quickly following suit. He recognized the one on the bed as Bret, and despite the ferocity of his entrance, the QB seemed to relax as he recognized who had just crashed his party.  
  
"Storkable, jeez!" he snorted. "Cut down on the caffeine, dude."  
  
Ron's eyes shot to the shape underneath as Bret dismounted her, immediately recognizing his friend and roommate who was (thank God!) fully clothed. There were a few red marks on her neck, but beyond that she seemed all right. In fact…she seemed to be enjoying herself. "Kim!" he cried, lunging forward.  
  
Kim's head lifted lazily from the pillow to stare at Ron with a glazed, giddy expression. "Ronnie!" she smiled and giggled. "Can you help me find my legs?" Her feet kicked of their own accord, and she looked down with a tiny laugh. "Ha! Found you!"  
  
The blond's head swiveled back to Bret. "What did you do to her?" he demanded angrily.  
  
"Chill, dude, chill," Bret eased Ron off with a hand to the chest, pushing him back as he sat down on the edge of the bed. His meaty paw began stroking Kim's lustrous red hair, which made Ron sick to his stomach. "We just gave her something to help her relax and…" he waggled his fingers with a smile, "Put her in 'the mood'."  
  
"Put her in the…" The words rattled around Ron's mind as he watched Bret fondle Kim. The redhead purred at his touch, stretching luxuriously as the QB's hand stroked her soft, smooth thigh. Ron's entire face grew red with fury as he watched the revolting display. "You slipped her something!"  
  
Bret shrugged, and his two pals laughed. "Yeah. What?" Suddenly, his round face dawned in realization. "Oh, I get it. You want to tap this too?" The large, burly frat boy stood up and folded his arms as he loomed over scrawny Ron Stoppable. "Well, I called it first, but you guys can fight over who gets seconds-"  
  
Ron began choking on his own rage. His lips flapped uselessly for a moment as he tried to get coherent thoughts to form some kind of language. Kim giggled from her place behind Bret, and that was all the encouragement Ron needed. "No one's getting anything," he growled. "I'm taking Kim home."  
  
The large senior snickered, looking down at the puny frosh. "I don't think so, little dude," he scoffed. "You'll-"  
  
Whatever Bret thought Ron would have to do to get past him, he never got the chance to verbalize it. Ron's fist shattered his nose in a spray of blood and mush faster than the eye could follow. Even as Bret reeled back, Ron planted his foot into the football star's solar plexus. Bret flew over the bed and crashed into the far wall. His well-muscled glutes paved the way for his entry into the drywall, where he hung limp and unconscious.  
  
Kim rolled about on the mattress, clapping delightedly at the exchange that had lasted less than two seconds. Ron merely glared at the remaining two, lowering his foot slowly to the ground. The other frat boys stared at the interloper with naked terror in their dull eyes as Ron asked, "Anyone else want to ask stupid questions?"  
  
A soft chortle from Kim was the only answer.  
  
"Thought not." Ron sneered.  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Ron kicked open the door to their apartment, carrying his squirming burden through the frame despite her awkward position. It was a miracle that he didn't hit either of their heads in the maneuver; he said a quick prayer of thanks to whatever gods had decided to temporarily relieve him of his clumsiness, knowing it couldn't last.  
  
"Oooh," Kim giggled, kicking her legs as he staggered in. "Carrying me across the threshold? I can't wait for what happens next."  
  
Ron rolled his eyes as he felt her nuzzling his neck. Whatever those idiots at the party had slipped her, it was potent as all hell, and just his luck, it wasn't something that would knock her out. In point of fact, he wasn't sure exactly what it 'had' done to her, besides make her loopier than a jaybird at a window convention (if that made 'any' sense at all…). He wasn't sure if she even recognized the room they were in. At least she seemed to remember him.  
  
"Well," he grunted, stomping across the apartment, "Maybe you should wait over here." He dropped her unceremoniously onto the futon of the couch, watching her bounce to rest on the cushion to make sure she wouldn't hurt herself or fall off. She squealed with excitement a bit, but was otherwise fine. As soon as she was down, he made a mad dash for the phone.  
  
"Must find help, must find help…" Ron muttered, bobbling the phone as he snatched it from its cradle. "It's going to be okay. Just have to keep a clear head. Kim will be fine."  
  
Rufus burbled quietly in his bowl next to the phone. His eyes surfaced briefly, blinking at the panicked Ron as the boy stood there for a moment, staring in deep thought at the keypad. Uninterested, the liquid rodent's features submerged back into the pasty pink goop that was his body, and he began to snore once more.  
  
"Okay," Ron breathed, forcing a brief calm over his shaking body. His fingers dialed furiously as beads of panic-sweat rolled down his brow. The phone began to ring on the other end. He gripped the counter, tapping his finger impatiently as he willed the other person to pick up.  
  
The line clicked on, and a sleepy voice answered, "Hello?"  
  
"Monique!" Ron cried joyfully. "Oh thank God! Listen, I need your help."  
  
"You have the dream where the taco eats you again?" the exotic beauty yawned across the connection.  
  
"Who told you…never mind. Listen, we have a big problem."  
  
"I know," her voice replied darkly. "You woke me up."  
  
"I'm serious!"  
  
She snapped a reply; "So am I, it's one in the morning. I haven't decided whether I'm going to let you live or not."  
  
"Monique!" he whined.  
  
"Speak, mortal…"  
  
He leaned in, cupping his hand to the phone. His gaze darted about, as if he were afraid of someone overhearing them in their own home in the middle of the night. "Look, we were at a frat party, and-"  
  
"Delta Kappa Phi?" Monique suddenly brightened. "You guys got into a Delta party? They rock!"  
  
"Yes! And something awful happened!" he moaned.  
  
Without warning, a pair of arms wrapped around Ron's waist, drawing him back. Something warm and soft crashed into his shoulder blades as a voice whispered tantalizingly in his ear. "What are you doing, Ron?"  
  
"What was that?" Monique asked. Her voice sounded confused.  
  
Ron swallowed the enormous lump in his throat. His voice vanished as a pair of lips nipped playfully at his ear. Whatever those frat jerks had tricked Kim into taking (for he knew they could never force anything on her), it had taken away every shred of her sense and self-control…and his was waning rapidly. "Ohh man…" he shuddered at her touch, forcing himself to remain focused.  
  
Kim's lips strayed from his ear and began sliding across his neck. Her hands rubbed across his chest and stomach, straying in a pattern of teasing exploration. With a sickening realization, Ron knew he couldn't let Mon, or anyone, see Kim like this. She would be utterly humiliated, even if no one else blamed her for it! Besides, he could handle this…he hoped.  
  
"Ron?" Monique's voice pierced the haze around his brain. "What's going on?"  
  
"Uhhh…nothing." Ron said quickly, ducking away from Kim's soft lips. He tried to break her hold around his waist, but her arms held fast.  
  
The voice across the phone sounded les than convinced. "Then what's this horrible, awful emergency?"  
  
Ron suddenly felt something hot and wet running down his jawline, and his entire mind went blank. Once his cognitive processes started up again, he realized something; his first reaction had been complete and utter crap. There was no way he could handle this by himself, no matter how humiliated Kim would be. If he kept it between the three of them, she might be able to live it down one day, but at the moment, he had bigger concerns. "Mon, I-"  
  
"We'll call you in the morning," Kim hummed into the phone's mouthpiece. Then she reached out and ripped the phone cradle, cord and all, from the wall and tossed it aside.  
  
Panic returned to Ron's heart, kicking its beat up to triple-time as he looked at the deadened phone. "Mon? Mon?!" he called uselessly into the device, shaking it and pounding it against his palm. "Hello?"  
  
He heard a low giggle from behind as strong, nimble hands spun him around by the shoulders. Kim still wore a glazed expression as she gazed at Ron. "You're always so much fun, Ron," she purred, advancing on him.  
  
Ron's feet stumbled (so much for the reprieve) as he backed away, trying feebly to break from her grasp. "Yeah, I'm a hoot," he muttered, looking around wildly for an avenue of escape. Naturally, in such a small apartment, there were none. "Say," he grinned nervously, "I have a real fun idea." Ron suddenly ran out of room to retreat; he slammed into the wall, held in place by Kim's grabby hands and hungry look. "Why don't we get you into bed?"  
  
"Mmmm," she purred even louder this time, drawing closer. "That's the best idea you've had all night."  
  
"What? NO!" Ron ducked beneath Kim's arm, tripping over his own feet as he tried to make an escape. The floor rushed up to meet him as he tumbled end over end, winding up on his back with a terrific ache. That ache then transformed into terror as a dark blur with red hair descended upon him without mercy or pause.  
  
"What's the matter, Ronnie?" Kim asked playfully as she crawled on top of him. She sat down, resting her hips just below Ron's waist as she grinned at her prey. "You don't seem happy."  
  
"You're not yourself, KP." Ron pleaded with her, taking her hands in his.  
  
Kim leaned down in response, using her captive hands to caress Ron's cheek. "How do you know?"  
  
"Wha-?"  
  
Ron thought he saw a glimmer of clarity behind the drug-induced fog in Kim's emerald eyes. She lowered her face to his, pausing just above his lips. Her hot breath rolled across his face, intoxicating his senses as she spoke. "How do you know I haven't been longing for you, Ron?" Her tongue flickered out, teasing the tip of his nose. "Is it so hard to believe?"  
  
He felt his heart sink. "Yeah," he whispered hoarsely.  
  
His sadness actually seemed to dull her mood. "Why?"  
  
"Because," he sighed, "The Kim I know would never do anything like this. Ever." He released her hands, cupping his own to her cheeks. Tiny, stinging tears welled up in his eyes as he looked into her face, but he forced them back. "If you had any idea how much it would mean to me…if it meant anything at all to you…" His voice trailed off as he looked away, no longer able to face her. "But it doesn't. So I can't."  
  
"Ron…"  
  
The sidekick/partner thought he heard something of the old Kim in her hesitant tone, and turned to look. All he saw was a looming predatory grin hovering inches above his face, with hands that he had foolishly relinquished ready to pounce.  
  
"You talk too much," she said, and attacked his lips with hers. Ron's protests were muffled as she poured herself into the most amazing kiss either one of them had ever experienced. His moans soon grew silent, and then returned as her tongue slipped between his lips and danced about in his mouth. Despite every ounce of sensibility screaming at him to stop the insanity.   
  
Kim moaned back, grinding her body against his. Her hands slipped beneath his sweater, exploring the taut lines of his chest and stomach. Ron had worked hard to mold himself from the pasty, lumpy teenager he had been in high school into what he was now, and it was apparent that Kim appreciated it more than a little. Tiny gasps of approval escaped the edges of her mouth whenever they broke briefly before she dived back into him, exploding with a passion he had never known her to possess.   
  
For just a minute, Ron felt himself kissing back. It was a moment of weakness, or a poor decision, or any number of things; he didn't care.  
  
It was everything he had wanted from Kim since realizing his own feelings from her. It was everything he could have hoped for, and more. He felt Kim pulling away, and breathed in sharply as her mouth left his. His eyes snapped open as Kim disappeared behind her off-the-shoulder blouse. Milky white skin and a lacy blue bra replaced the vanishing black material. Kim's fiery mane soon followed, reappearing as she worked the garment free of her head and tossed it aside.  
  
Ron let his gaze travel up her body as she leaned in again. Her lips glistened in the moonlight, tilted upward and framed by a sunken dimple on either side. Her shimmering green eyes…  
  
Her eyes…  
  
Her eyes were still clouded.  
  
Reality came crashing back as Ron stared into her hazy eyes. He suddenly felt violently sick to his stomach as he watched her reach around her back to undo the bra. Quickly, he reached out and snagged her wrists before she could take anything else off and destroy the last of his control, which was still dangling by a thread.  
  
"Ron," she moaned, "What are you doing? Why did you-"  
  
Ron sat up, cradling Kim in his arms. See seemed to be growing more and more out of it with each passing moment now, and felt light as a feather in his lap. "Kim, this is wrong."  
  
"Wrong?" she hissed. It was a miscalculation on Ron's part to keep her in his lap; she pressed herself to his chest, letting one hand grip the back of his neck while the other pushed him down. "Ron, I'm on fire right now. Fire!" He thudded to the floor as she used her leverage to pin him there, despite his greater strength. "Talk all you want, but I know your body's screaming for me."  
  
"KP…" he begged, struggling against her. "No…"  
  
"Just listen to it…" she whispered, leaning down. Her lips explored his neck, sucking and nipping at the tender flesh. "Can't you feel it? My body burns for you, Ron…"  
  
Ron was sweating bullets as he tried weakly to pull Kim away. "Kim, stop."  
  
"I'm burning for you, too." Kim said softly, blowing in his ear. He could feel the sweat pouring off of her skin as she moved down, pulling at his collar and kissing his chest. "I'm burning…"  
  
"Kim…"  
  
"Ron," she moaned, laying her head upon his muscled chest. "I'm burning…"  
  
Ron felt her grip go weak. The brief lapse brought with it a mountain of relief as he rolled over, capturing her in his arms and rising to his knees. But the relief was short lived; he brushed the hair from her face, and felt an intense heat radiating from every square inch of her body. She was covered in a thin sheen of sweat as her body burned. She looked weakly up at him, mouthing a single word.  
  
'Help.'  
  
"KIM!" Ron cried. He threw himself to his feet, cradling Kim in his arms. She felt like an ember in his grasp as he hugged her close. Her eyes lolled about in her head, and her jaw was slackened. "Hang on, KP!" Ron barreled for her room, clutching her to his chest. "Just stay with me, Kim. Don't…don't go, okay?"  
  
"R…R-Ron…" she breathed.  
  
'Whatever happens,' he begged her silently, 'Please, please, please don't leave me!'  
  
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	3. She always has the neatest dreams

=All-Purpose Disclaimer=  
  
Kim Possible is a registered trademark of Disney Inc. Any and all usage of its characters, locations and themes is without permission or profit. If you have any inclination of suing me, you'd better just toddle on and smeg off.  
  
=Reviewer Response=  
  
Frederick Aloysius  
  
On the nose, lad. On the nose. Many kudos, and many more thanks.  
  
================================================================================  
  
Kim Possible  
  
A Hero to Me  
  
by Cyberwraith Nine  
  
================================================================================  
  
Kim awoke with a start to a warm, gritty surface. She shot upward, pushing onto her elbows as she spit up a modicum of sand from her cottony mouth. Her eyes fluttered open, squinting against the sudden and harsh daylight that assaulted her sensitive retinas as she looked about in a disoriented fashion. The dull lump of aching grey matter that passed for her brain strained mightily as she tried to recall what she had been doing before this, and how she had gotten where she was.  
  
…and where was she, anyway?  
  
The surroundings seemed familiar. When she had first discovered the sand beneath her, the first thought she had was abject fear that one of her enemies had drugged her, then dumped her in the middle of a desert to wander uselessly until she died of dehydration. It had happened twice before, and the ordeal was always murder on her complexion (to say nothing of missing classes for however long it took her to escape certain death).  
  
Luckily, this desert had a perimeter made out of worm-ridden wood that stretched around a boxy shape filled with sand. A small structure stood in front of her, composed of multi-level platforms and jutting bars of rusted iron, and had some kind of emergency escape chute twisting from the highest stage. It took her a second to recognize it as a jungle gym, and a second longer to realize why it seemed so familiar.  
  
"Middleton Pre-K…" she murmured, hauling herself to her feet. She dusted her clothes off, stopping only a second to note that she had somehow changed into her mission gear.   
  
It all felt very strange, but stranger still was the fact that she was back at a school that hadn't been standing for over a decade. Regardless, there was no mistaking. The old swing set maintained a squeaky vigil in the corner of the gigantic sandbox, wavering gently in the breeze. Beyond the edge of the sandbox, towering above the tiny playground, was a homey-looking building where she had spent her tender developmental years learning how to fit into 'the system'. And near the corner of the schoolyard, Kim's eyes were drawn to a very familiar, very old oak tree beneath which her life had been changed forever by a very young, very clumsy, and very sweet little boy with tussled blond hair.  
  
"Well," she muttered, turning in place to examine her surroundings, "This is about three steps left of bizarre." Memories began flooding back to her, but she did her best to block them out. However, she distinctly remembered the night an eight-year-old Kim and Ron had spent under the oak tree before demolition teams had torn down their first taste of public education. So how was it she was there now? And what happened to the party?  
  
Kim cupped her hands together, calling out to the deserted school grounds. "Hello? Anyone here?" Save for the soft squeak of the swings, there wasn't a sound in the schoolyard. It felt wrong to be in such a place without the laughter of children, as if the very soul of the place had died. "Big person in trouble here… I promise I'm not going to offer you strange candy 'or' rides in my mysterious van."  
  
A soft titter drew her attention away from the old schoolhouse. Kim turned back to the jungle gym and was surprised to see a pair of youths playing where just moments before there had been no one else. She hadn't heard anyone approaching. Nor did she see anyone else; just the pair of kids, who, like her surroundings, gave Kim a heady sense of deja vu.  
  
"Hey!" One of the pair, a little boy with a scrub of yellow topping his head and wearing shorts with an adorable ducky t-shirt, pointed and shouted at Kim. He hung upside-down from the jungle gym's monkey bars, swinging to and fro by his knees. His face was slowly turning purple with blood, and he was missing several of his front teeth as he grinned. "You shouldn't be here!"  
  
"Yeah!" his playmate agreed loudly. The little girl wore her carroty locks in a pair of pigtails pulled atop her round, cherubic head that matched perfectly with her summery denim overalls. She leaned over the guard rail next to the long plastic slide and grinned at the teen. "You're too old to play here."  
  
Kim stumbled towards the pair, kicking up a cloud of sand as her eyes remained glued on them. Her befuddled mind was trying to make heads or tails of the situation, but nothing was making sense anymore. After what seemed forever, she reached the jungle gym. She leaned heavily on the tire swing for balance as she stared up at the children with slackened jaw and saucer-like eyes. "I…" she stammered, "I think I'm a little lost…"  
  
The blond boy laughed. "How can you be lost?" he asked. His hanging arms swung up, pointing at the little girl on the tall platform. "You're right there!" The little girl smiled and waved at Kim with a little smile as the boy clutched at the bars, making his way back to the main portion of the jungle gym.  
  
"You…You…Know who I am?" asked Kim through a growing sense of awe.  
  
"Sure!" little Kimmie laughed in exactly the same manner as Kim would have. "How could I not?"  
  
Having finally crawled back onto the platforms, Ronnie stomped up until he was standing next to his friend. He examined Kim openly, squinting a single eye as if it would help determine something. "I dunno," he mused with a devilish gleam in his open eye, "She's awfully pretty t' be you."  
  
Kimmie stamped her foot, growing red and puffy about the cheeks, and it was all Kim could do not to laugh at the display. "I'm jus' as pretty as she is!" she huffed.  
  
"Nu-uh!" Ronnie shot back, "'Cause she don't have little piggy pigtails! Oink oink oink!" He pulled his nose up with his thumb and laughed derisively at his own joke. That lasted as long as it took Kimmie's speedy arms to wrap around his neck in a ironclad headlock. Then he started shrieking like a panicked hyena; "Aaaahh! Leggo, leggo! Uncle!"  
  
"No way!" Kimmie smirked, nearly jerking Ronnie off his feet. "You gotta say 'Auntie'!"  
  
"Auntie! Auntie!" the little boy sobbed.  
  
Kimmie yanked upward and let go, spinning him up and around. She caught him by the shoulders and held him fast. "Mmm… I think you need a little more punishment." And with that, she leaned in and kissed him briefly on the lips.  
  
Unfathomable horror echoed in Ronnie's widened eyes as she pulled away with a smile. His little chest inflated like a balloon with air that hissed between his teeth. Then, shifting his mouth into an O-shape…  
  
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Ronnie's howl could have awoken the dead as he clutched at his golden locks. He rushed to the edge of the jungle gym and leapt off, kicking and flailing through the air, lungs blaring like an air-raid warning, and fell into a heap on the sand beneath the play set. He pulled himself up rather quickly and ran off, screaming all the way to the schoolhouse as if his life were now forfeit thanks to Kimmie's lethal lips.  
  
Kimmie giggled behind her hand as her elder self swung up to the top of the platform. The two of them sat down on the splintering wood, legs dangling over the edge and arms resting on the railing as they watched Ron zigzag around the schoolhouse, presumably to try and find some kind of antiseptic for his condition. The teen watched her counterpart with a growing sense of nostalgia. She saw the way Kimmie gazed at the young boy, and suddenly it all made sense. "You like him, don't you?" she remarked.  
  
Her eyes never left her best friend as she nodded and turned slightly red at the cheeks. "Mmm-hmm," hummed the little girl. Then she looked over as Kim laughed lightly. Her pudgy features scrunched up as she demanded, "What's so funny?" with trembling indignation in her voice.  
  
To stave off any tears or hurt feelings, Kim quickly said, "It's nothing, just…funny how little things change, that's all."  
  
The little one's eyes grew wide and sparkly as a great grin broke her features. "You like Ronnie too?" she asked.  
  
Kim watched Ronnie's upside-down face grow purple as he stuck his head between his legs and heaved deep, terrified breaths. If he kept it up, he'd probably pass out. Then they'd have to perform CPR or something, and then the whole ordeal would start anew. "Oh yeah," she grunted as she watched he heaving four-year-old, "What's not to like?"  
  
Kimmie almost jumped off the platform as she clapped in glee. "I knew it!" The little girl pumped her fists in the air. "I knew Ronnie 'n' me get married!"  
  
Now it was Kim's features that scrunched up. She eased the little girl back down, lest her younger self topple over in her mild frenzy. "Uh…not exactly," she drawled.  
  
The little girl watched her older self shift uncomfortably for a moment. Her tiny pug nose wrinkled up in a confused frown as she asked, "What d'you mean? You're at least boyfriend and girlfriend, right?"  
  
"Not in the…strictest sense of the word, no." Kim rubbed behind her ear, lowering her gaze. She couldn't stand the full force of Kimmie's accusatory glare.  
  
Little Kimmie's hands shifted to her hips, a gesture the older Kim was all too familiar with. "But you're so old!" cried Kimmie indignantly. "You haven't been doin' nothin' all this time!?"  
  
"Hey, watch it half-pint!" the teen heroine shot back. "I've been busy saving the world from freaks and nut jobs!"  
  
"An' those peoples are more impor'ant than Ronnie?" Kimmie countered with a defiant pout.  
  
"Yes! No!" Kim struggled, clutching at the air in front of her as though to throttle the very confusion that plagued her. "It's not that simple," she insisted.  
  
"Why not? If you like him, you should just say so!" Kimmie folded her arms matter-of-factly, nodding as if it were the most simple concept on Earth to grasp. "Then he'll say it back, you'll get married an' live happily ever after!"  
  
Kim's voice rose in a shout, "It doesn't work like that!"  
  
"Why NOT?" Kimmie shouted back.  
  
"Because," Her voice trailed off uselessly as she found herself without a reply. The self-righteous sense of smug superiority melted away as her chest deflated and her shoulders slumped forward. "Because…"  
  
"Because what?" the little girl demanded with steely green eyes.  
  
Kim sank back, slouching against the guard rail as she looked down at her dangling toes. With a start, she noted that her clothes had somehow changed to match Kimmie's exactly; she didn't even own a pair of overalls in her own size, but there they were, baggy and comfortable and atrocious from a fashion standpoint. But Kim's mind wasn't on style at the moment. "Because I'd lose him."  
  
Surprisingly, Kimmie snorted at this. She stood up and loomed over her counterpart, once again with hand on hips. "Baloney!" she sniffed. "Ronnie'd never leave me!"  
  
"Look, it already almost happened!" Kim squeezed her eyes shut as the flood of memories assaulted her from every direction. The last two months flashed before her eyes, and it was all she could do not to cry out or sob as she saw herself slapping Ron at the top of Upperton Towers. She watched herself dismissing him on the streets of Hong Kong all over again. She saw the hatred and the hurt burning in Ron's eyes again and again and again, and it nearly broke her, just as it had the first time. "You weren't there, you don't understand."  
  
"Why is grown-ups always sayin' that?" Kimmie stamped her foot childishly as she shouted, "You ALWAYS say that! I'm you, I understand plenty!"  
  
"I…I almost lost Ron because I was a bad friend." Kim choked, her eyes still closed as tightly as they would go. "And when I got him back, all these feelings…they just came out of nowhere. I didn't know what to do, so I…I just kept quiet. Then things cooled off, and I was so happy that things were finally getting back to normal…"  
  
Kimmie stared quietly at her crying counterpart. Her little frown shifted to an expression of sympathy as she reached out, rubbing Kim's shoulder affectionately just as their mother used to do for them when they were upset. "You're a'scared." she murmured softly.  
  
"I'm not afraid!" Kim sobbed. Her whole body trembled with silent crying as her younger self tried to comfort her. "I'm not afraid! I can do anything!" The lie seemed to break the dam as she moaned, clutching at her temples. Streams of salty tears poured from her cheeks, and she was helpless to do anything about it. "I'm not afraid…"  
  
A pair of tiny arms wrapped around her midsection as Kimmie drew herself close, leaning her head against Kim's chest. "It's okay to be a'scared, Kim." she whispered as she squeezed her older self. "I get scared all the time."  
  
Kim buried her face into the little one's hair, hugging her back. "I don't now what to do anymore," she moaned, sniffling back her outburst and swallowing hard as she hugged 'herself' back. "Ron and me…there's something between us, and I don't know what to do. If something happened, and it broke us up…"  
  
"What about happily ever after?" asked Kimmie in a hushed voice.  
  
The innocent comment forced a bitter smile to Kim's lips as she leaned her forehead against the top of Kimmie's head. "I don't believe in happily ever after."  
  
"You used to," Kimmie retorted sadly.  
  
Kim pulled away, wiping her eyes and feeling very foolish for having cried in the first place. She was a hero, she didn't have any business crying. With a sad thought, she realized she didn't have any business being here, either. This was just a memory, a place where she had played as a child. She was an adult now, and adults were supposed to come up with solutions. But why did every solution have to suck so much?  
  
"I couldn't stand to lose him again," she admitted. "Ron's the most important thing to me. I…I can't love him."  
  
"You don't love Ronnie?" Now Kimmie's eyes wavered with watery tears.  
  
"No, that's not it." Kim sniffed, bending down on one knee to look her younger self square in the eyes. She wiped a tear from the girl's cheek, giving her a tiny, sad smile. "You and I care about Ron a lot. That'll never change. But…If I was wrong, it would break his heart and mine…ours," she amended. "I can't risk it…not even for something as wonderful as love."  
  
Kimmie sniffed as well. "Being a grown-up sounds hard," she muttered.  
  
"It is," Kim agreed.  
  
"Shouldn't hafta be," she pouted stubbornly, releasing herself from Kim's grip.  
  
Muffled footsteps plodded through the sandy box, heralding Ronnie's return from hysteria. "That was a dirty trick, KP!" he shouted bitterly as he wiped his mouth for the three hundred and forty-fifth time.  
  
Kimmie's sadness seemed to vanish at her best friend's return. "You just watch out, Ron Stoppable!" Kimmie called back as she ran over to the railing. "I'm gonna do it again someday, when you ain't 'spectin' it!"  
  
"Nu-uh, or I'm telling!"  
  
Kimmie cast one last look at her future self before jumping onto the slide and zooming down to ground level. "'Fraid of cooties?" the little girl teased as her friend ran up to meet her at the bottom.  
  
"No," he whined back, "I just don't want any your yucky germs!"  
  
"Ha! One day I bet you want me to kiss you!"  
  
They ran off, hooting and chasing after each other with peals of childish laughter. "Not ever!" Ronnie shouted decidedly.  
  
Kim watched the pair run off. She leaned back against the opposite railing with a sigh as the pair vanished from view. All around her, a white mist was rolling in, obscuring the world around her in a cool chill. 'Not ever, huh?' she thought with dark amusement as the duo disappeared into the mist. The living memory flickered and faded around her, leaving behind it a field of pure white, and nothing else.  
  
Kim wasn't sure what she felt for Ron; if it was the beginnings of love, or just some strange echo of friendship brought on by the previous disaster. Could she really think of Ron that way? Ron had told her not long ago that he loved her as a friend. It would be a terrible gamble to risk such a treasure…  
  
…but what if it paid off?"  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Sunlight burned at Kim's fluttering eyes. The first thing she became aware of was a pounding brass band that had moved in between her temples. They played loudly as she sat up with a loud wince.  
  
"Ooh," she groaned, rubbing at her head. She felt something cold and damp there, and peeled it from her forehead; it was a cool cloth, and it actually felt good against her skin. Regardless, she set it on her nightstand…then paused, realizing that she was back in her own room.  
  
"I'm…home." she noted slowly, propping herself against her pillows. She looked down and was surprised to see her pajamas in place of her party outfit…or was it overalls? Her mission clothes? "What happened?" she asked aloud. The last thing Kim could remember clearly was drinking a toast with Bret at the Delta house. After that…some kind of playground? The apartment? None of it was clear.  
  
Looking further, Kim noticed a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin on her nightstand. A soft snoring drew her gaze to the right. There, sprawled out in a stiff-back chair was her roommate with another cool cloth in hand. His head tilted back over the edge of the chair as he slept uneasily, shifting and snorting.  
  
Kim blinked at the sight as she opened the aspirin bottle and popped a few hundred milligrams of relief, washing it down with the water he had thoughtfully left at her bedside. 'Did he stay here all night?' The thought was a little amusing, and very sweet, but why would he bother? And why did her head hurt so damn much? Aloud, Kim called softly to him, "Ron."  
  
"Mah-shanala…" he drooled, rolling slightly to his left.  
  
"Ron." she said again.  
  
"Gotta catch 'em all…" he mumbled in his sleep.  
  
She smiled and tossed the damp rag onto his face. "Ron!" she half-shouted, then clutched her temples in regret at the loud noise.  
  
The cloth struck Ron's face with a wet slap, slipping over his eyes. He awoke with a start, sitting up as he cried out. His arms pinwheeled as he screamed, "I'm blind! Rufus, save the burritos!"  
  
"Ron, chill!" Kim reached out, ignoring the pounding pain in her ears and catching one of his flailing hands. It took a moment for him to calm down and pull the cloth from his eyes. He looked over at Kim. The relief she saw pouring from his face made her smile. "Ron, what on Earth am I doing here?" she asked him.  
  
"Kim!" Ron cried, leaping forward. He crashed into her and wrapped his arms around her body, hugging her with fierce devotion. She had to push him away before he broke something. Plus, she still felt like crap. "Oh man, I'm so glad you're okay…"  
  
"Ron, what's going on?" Kim was tired of being confused. She folded her arms determinedly, lowering a steely gaze in his direction as he began to stammer. "Why am I home, and why don't I know how I got here?"  
  
With a long, deep sigh, Ron launched into the tale of the previous night. As the story unfolded, Kim's face morphed from bemusement to shock, then to horror, until at last she masked her emotions behind an unreadable expression.  
  
He paused as he reached the part where they got back to the apartment. "And…then we got home. You were feverish, so I tucked you in and kept an eye on you."  
  
Kim sat there, clutching Ron's hand. She felt violently ill as she thought of what Bret and his stupid friends had tried to do to her the night before. She felt so violated, so…so dirty! Outrage welled up in her soul as she involuntarily squeezed, then felt her heart leap as Ron squeezed back. "Let me see if I understand," she said slowly in a barely audible voice.  
  
"Okay," Ron worriedly replied.   
  
"Bret put something in my drink that made me act like a horny, nymphomaniac slut…"  
  
"I believe I said 'Bonnie-like'," he agreed, hoping to bring a little levity to break the tension.  
  
"…then he and a couple of his skanky buddies took me upstairs to…to…" She choked on the last part, shaking with anger. Tears of outrage threatened to spill over as her jaw tightened and her teeth ground. "They were going to…"  
  
"Hey!" Ron leaned back in, clutching her close to his chest as he whispered in her ear. "Kim, they didn't do anything. I know that doesn't make it okay, but I got there before anything happened."  
  
"Oh my God…" Kim moaned into his chest, holding him back.  
  
"I would never let anyone do something like that to you, Kim." he murmured, rocking her gently back and forth. Tears stung at his own eyes as he thought of how close it had come. If he had been just a few seconds late… "Never."  
  
And they held each other as, together, they wept away the lost of their innocence.  
  
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It was nearly an hour later that Kim emerged from her bedroom. After a heavy dose of consoling, Ron had honored her request for some time alone, and spent the long, agonizing minutes as he waited working in the kitchen. The more upset he was, the more energy he put into cooking. At this point, he was just putting the finishing touches on some crepes to go along with their three-cheese omlettes and fresh, diced assortment of fruits.  
  
His eyes lit up upon seeing her exit the darkened, dour room. "Hey! How…how ya feeling?"  
  
"Better," she admitted, rubbing at her red, puffy eyes. "Still angry as all get-out, but better." She sniffed the air, and a tentative smile grew on her face. "Breakfast?"  
  
"Only the finest," he puffed proudly. The chef produced a pair of plates from behind the counter, setting one in front of Kim. He was just about to dive into the other when a naked pink blob dived into his food, inhaling at an incredible rate. With a sigh, Ron pushed his plate aside, leaving the masterfully prepared food to Rufus. Instead, he watched Kim pick at the food, keeping a neutral expression on his face. He didn't know what to do or say, and felt his handling of the situation was wholly inadequate. There must have been something he should have said, or done, to make it seem better…though he doubted it.  
  
Kim poked at the food with her fork. She felt guilty for not feeling hungry, especially considering how much effort Ron must have put into the food, but her stomach just wouldn't let her eat at the moment. Instead, she set her fork down, staring at the food. Bits and pieces of her memory floated back to her every so often without control; she recalled parts of her delirium very vividly, though most of it was a blur. After a long moment, she looked up, and found Ron's concerned brown eyes waiting for her.  
  
They stared at each other for a moment in uncomfortable silence. At last Ron broke the stillness with a question; "What?"  
  
"I love you."  
  
To say that Ron was shocked would have been akin to saying that Alpha Centauri is really, really far away. His mouth grew dry and his heart skipped at least twelve beats as he opened and closed his jaw uselessly. Finally, a single sound managed to work its way out as he grunted, "Uhn?"  
  
She pushed the plate aside, leaning forward until her face was only a few inches away from Ron's. The vase of gift roses was slightly in her way, so that was budged over as well. "Last month, you said you were my best friend. You told me that nothing would ever change that. You said you loved me."  
  
"I…I remember." he stammered. "But Kim, what I meant was-"  
  
Her hand halted him in mid-sentence. "I know what you meant." assured the tussled redhead. "That's not what bothers me. What bothers me is, I didn't say it back. So now I am. I love you."  
  
Realization finally made its way into Ron's befuddled system. "Kim, I always knew that." he leaned back with a sigh.  
  
"But I never said it before." she insisted. Her hand reached out, pulling a rose from the vase and twiddling it as she stared down at her feet. "I should have. I should have said it a long time ago, Ron, because you deserved to hear it. Our friendship shouldn't be this big unspoken 'thing', right? And after what you did last night…"  
  
Ron circled the counter slowly, also unable to look his friend in the eye. "I didn't do anything you wouldn't have done for me, KP."  
  
Kim's rose reached out in her grasp, sliding under his chin and lifting it until they could gaze into each other's confused expressions. She stepped in close, so close that Ron began to grow very warm about the cheek.  
  
"I said this yesterday," she reminded him, placing a hand on his chest. "And from now on, I'll say it more often. You, Ron Stoppable, are my hero." Reaching out once more, she kissed him on the nose with the tip of her rosebud. "And I couldn't ask for a better one."  
  
This time, the silence between them wasn't awkward in any way. His goofy, trademark Ron smile split his face wide open as he took the rose and returned her flowery Eskimo kiss. "Only a hero when my damsel in distress needs saving."  
  
"That's sweet," she smiled. "But if you ever call me a damsel in distress again, I'll have to hurt you."  
  
"Duly noted."  
  
They pulled away, with Kim heading slowly towards the bathroom as Ron moved to clean up the kitchen. Halfway there, she stopped, and turned around. "Ron?"  
  
"Yeah KP?"  
  
"I have to ask…" Kim rubbed at her neck, which still held the ill-gotten hickies Bret had given her. "Did I do anything…I dunno…embarrassing last night?"  
  
The color drained from Ron's face, and he swallowed hard. "Embarrassing? Uh…No. No, not really. Just a few nonsense words before you passed out is all."  
  
"Good." Her smile, sweet as sugar, beamed at him before she turned back. There was a teasing sway in her hips as she added, "Then I won't bother asking how I got into my pajamas between then and now." And with that, she closed the bathroom door behind her.  
  
"Uh…I can explain!" he called after her pathetically.  
  
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=Not Quite The End=  
  
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Bret Bretterson held the remains of his nose as he sat on the Delta Kappa Phi fraternity's couch in the living room. The entire house had been trashed from the night before, and he hadn't even been around to enjoy the party. Instead, he had been asleep in the wall, where his two 'buddies' had been too afraid to pull him out for fear of encouraging the wrath of that lame freshman dweeb.  
  
"Was just a lucky punch anyway," he muttered, pulling at a roll of athletic tape and putting it across the bridge of his nose. It had hurt unbelievably when he had set it himself (though he had broken it many times in football before anyway), and he didn't want anything undoing his painful handiwork.  
  
Without warning, the front door slammed open with a terrific crack. Bret jumped at the noise, landing on his feet and whirling around to see who had entered so violently.  
  
Ron Stoppable leaned against the doorframe. His arms were folded casually and he wore a haughty look on his pasty features that the senior couldn't wait to wipe away. "Lucy, I'm home!" he smirked.  
  
"Stoppable," Bretterson growled, curling his hands into fists. "What's the matter? Come back for a 'real' fight?"  
  
"No Bret. I have way too many ways of wasting my time as it is." Ron blew on his nails as he examined the cuticles, biting at a hangnail. "I've just come to see you learn the error of your ways."  
  
"Puh-lease. We were just having a little fun with Possible." Bret snorted. "Besides, who's going to believe her? I'm the best QB this school has seen in forty years, you really think they're gonna bench me because of some stuck-up little frosh? Besides," he added with a sneer, "You think you can get lucky twice?"  
  
"Hmm? Oh, no. I didn't come here to fight." Ron's smile doubled as he stepped in and leaned against the front wall, clearing the doorway. "Like I said, I'm here to 'see' you learn the error of your ways. And believe me, I wanted to get a front-row seat for 'this' show!"  
  
A new frame filled the doorway, one considerably less built than Ron (who was pretty skinny to begin with). The curvy, wiry body struck a defiant pose, clad in tan cargos and a pink blouse, and wearing a malicious grin. "Hello, Bret." Kim uttered.  
  
Bret's face became as pale as the walls as he stared at the teenage hero about to beat the holy bejesus out of him. "K-K-Kim…"  
  
"Here's the plan," she said, cracking her knuckles. Ron watched on with the same humongous grin on his face as she approached the shivering senior. "I'm going to beat you senseless. Then, when you come to your senses, you're going to take all of your little fun-time supplies, go to the campus police, and make a full confession. I'd advise your buddies to do the same."  
  
"I…I…I…" was all the QB could say.  
  
Ron just shook his head. "Don't you just love a strong, confident woman, Bret?" he called.  
  
Kim stopped just in front of him, cocking her fist back. "How about we drink a new toast, Bret? Let's make this one to modern medicine, 'cause I think you and it will have a very special 'liaison' very, very soon.  
  
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=Now It's The End=  
  
--Some Notes from the Author—  
  
Love is stupid.  
  
Don't think me a bitter old man of twenty for saying this. I've had some pretty bad heartbreaks, but I'm still looking for the woman I want to spend my life with. But let's face it; out of all the emotions, there is none so willing and able to completely screw us up as love is. Love can empty your bank account, ruin your career, destroy your self-esteem, and even lead to a painful double suicide ala Romeo and Juliet. So why do we do it?  
  
Good question. Let me get back to you on that one.  
  
But the point is, I wanted to take a little time to explain something to my readers out there, hopefully without alienating them all at once. You see, many of you have written in reviews demanding such things as "KR 4-ev3r!" and "Kim should just tell him!" and things like that. Well, I'd like to counter with a question of my own: How many of you have been in love? And not just a crush, not a passing fancy or a mistake, but honest love? If any of you answered "I have!" then you're lying to yourself and me, and only fooling one of us. The truth is, I don't believe anyone can 'say' they're in love. You have to feel it. Even I, who was so certain I was in love at one point that I would have married my high-school sweetheart, am not certain I was ever 'really' in love. And that's the really screwed up part.  
  
Many of you complain about Kim. You think she's heartless, or wishy-washy, or any number of other things. Well, she can be. Do you know why? She's EIGHTEEN years old! This is the time when she's supposed to be shaping her life, and believe me when I say you can't build any serious relationship with someone when you're trying to discover who and what you are. The latter has to come before the former can even begin.  
  
And, truthfully, just from watching the show, I've discovered that Kim can be a pretty bad friend. She's devoted enough, and rushes to his rescue, certainly. But she can also be condescending, rude, thoughtless, and downright mean at times. To stray from this in the story is to stray from Kim herself, and turn her into a WAFF machine. That's something I will not do, under any circumstances. I wanted to capture Kim's growth and change as a person in this, her most important developmental years. This is the time when Kim and Ron will decide who and what they want to be. Maybe their decisions will include each other, and maybe they won't. They don't know yet.  
  
Ron, in the meantime, is doing the only thing he can; he watches out for Kim. That's all he's ever done, whether she knows it or not. I've tried to take Ron away from his roots in the show, give him a little growth while still maintaining his essential 'Ron-ness'. Sometimes I succeed. Sometimes I fail. Hopefully I do more of the first than the second. I'll let you decide.  
  
I was actually inspired by the TV Movie, "A Sitch In Time," to develop the idea, 'What would Kim do without Ron?' And from there, it sort of grew into its own universe. I'm glad, because I've had a blast writing it, and am proud to have so many people enjoy my work.  
  
Finally, several of you have wondered what the drug Bret used on Kim was. In all honesty, I don't think such a drug exists. When I came up with the concept, I wanted the effect from two different drugs; a mild sedative, and a mega-dose of an aphrodisiac. If it ever were created (god forbid), it would probably be the perfect date-rape drug. Which leads me to a final point; ladies, please be careful. Many men are slime, and many more make bad choices. Never party alone, and never without someone you trust close at hand to keep you from situations like this…or to keep you from making a fool of yourself.  
  
To all my readers, I wish you good day, and good hunting. I will have the next installment of my Kim Possible series, The Power Trilogy (that's right, there'll be three major stories, as well as at least one other mini-sequel like this one) out at some point. It may be a while, as I have other projects ahead of it on the list. But rest assured, it will come, as it always does. After all, don't I always say it?  
  
The best is yet to come. 


End file.
